


Words Can Never Speak So Well

by lunarbones



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety Attacks, Falling In Love, Family Issues, Friends to Lovers, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Miscommunication, Mutual Pining, Phichit is a literal sunshine, Pining, Seung Gil deserves the world, Slow Burn, a whole lotta figure skating, but also a lowkey flirt, everyone shows up at some point - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:14:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24390415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunarbones/pseuds/lunarbones
Summary: Simultaneously dealing with family problems, his mentally abusive coach and the general weight of his home country's expectation, Seung-gil finds himself at a breaking point. His desperate need for change leads him into the arms of an unlikely friendship and a different country. Along the way, his emotions start to transform but he was never taught how to take a risk off the ice.
Relationships: Phichit Chulanont/Lee Seung Gil
Comments: 16
Kudos: 15





	Words Can Never Speak So Well

**Author's Note:**

> First and foremost, I want to declare my eternal appreciation for [tarnished_reveries](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tarnished_reveries/pseuds/tarnished_reveries) who was patient and kind enough to beta this fic and point out my bias when it was/is needed. Also, thank you for screaming with me (or at least dealing with my shipping mind) when I come up with a new idea. *throws glitter* Cheers to the queen of angst!
> 
> The title is a line from George Byron’s poem: Maid Of Athens, Ere We Part.
> 
> Each chapter will carry a title of a song – I know, very original – but these songs either helped me to set the mood or they are perfect to explain the character’s state of mind. (I actually have a [Spotify list](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0cqgfENllaOTzkOo2891eV?si=xw1pH2fBRuC2x06eAKy3Dg) for each chapter if anyone wants to get a sneak peek).
> 
> Every comment, feedback and keyboard smash is loved and probably will be framed. ♥

Social media can be highly addictive, even for those who can’t stand the main idea behind it: connecting people. Seung-gil was definitely one of those who tried to avoid networking or communicating with others, but could also spend hours on Youtube, rewatching the videos of his competitors’ programs. First, he just let the program captivate his eyes, then he grabbed a pen and a notebook to analyze the jumps and step sequences. And the final revision let him focus on the details of a program, like the composition, interpretation, and skating skills.

For most part, social media was basically another platform for Seung-gil to learn and widen his knowledge. It didn’t necessarily mean that he wasn’t aware of all the Instagram posts his competitors shared or all the articles that were written about him. He wasn’t blind, he just didn’t care about them. Except of those cringy _“Korea’s number one figure skater was hit with puberty like a truck – with photos!”_ pieces that made him curious and mad at the same time. He was intrigued how on earth a Korean gossip site could get a hand on one of his particularly unflattering private family pictures, but also furious enough to threaten them with a lawsuit if they don’t take it down. And they did, which always left Min-so devastated.

“Why do you have to dig your own grave? You never think about the sponsors!” his coach usually entreated.

The thing is, Seung-gil has never understood the concept of public image, much less the importance of it. His only priority was to skate and deliver his art to the audience. He never asked for fangirls, interviews, or fame. Popularity was just the necessary evil that came hand in hand with his choice of career. But this also made him jealous, because other artists, like writers and painters, didn't have to put themselves out there. They could choose to be anonymous, work in solitude and still create something memorable.

At this point of his life, he started to question, whether he should have chosen writing instead of figure skating. However, even Seung-gil had to admit he was never really good with words. Though, as the rising star of Korean figure skating, he had advantages and could say no occasionally to his coach. In practice, this meant that Min-so had to bite the bullet for him in order to maintain his protegee's public image. Seung-gil suspected that she would have quit as a coach already, if he hasn't been objectively the best skater in his country.

This time Min-so tried to convince him – for hours now – to attend a social gathering held by none other than Viktor Nikiforov right after the Grand Prix final as a celebration of his return and Yuuri's performance. Seung-gil patiently listened to all the potential benefits of making an appearance at the event, but after a while he simply said no.

“It might not be a competition, but important people will be there. Retired figure skaters, sponsors and nonetheless your current competitors.” Min-so really tried her best to reason with him.

“I'd rather practice for Four Continents,” he answered emotionlessly.

“A few days of vacation won't hurt your physique.”

“I know, but I won't go.”

“Seung-gil!”

“I won't. It's not mandatory,” Seung-gil asserted, a bit annoyed now.

A moment of silence fell on them and he heard his coach’s tired sigh.

“And what will be your excuse for the media? Everyone will be there except you.”

“That I don't like these people.”

"I'm serious,” Min-so sighed again at the other end of the phone.

“The truth then. I will be practicing.”

After another bit of uncomfortable silence, it seemed that Min-so finally gave up on his torture.

“You can't be like this forever, you know. I understand you don't want to socialize, but solely your jumps won't win the heart of the audience.”

Seung-gil grimaced at the statement. He hated to hear this because he knew it was true. As much as he tried to be the best, perfecting his jumps and following his coach's orders on the rink, he couldn't find the soul of his programs. Almavivo was the perfect example of it. Did he like the music? Of course, he chose that, but he didn't manage to feel it on the ice or fire up the audience.

The music was in sync with his program's rhythm, but it never harmonized with his emotions or to be fully honest, the lack of it.

“This is why practice is necessary,” he managed to blurt out eventually.

“Fine. But if you want to reconsider—”

“I don't. Thanks. Bye," Seung-gil responded impatiently and put an end to the conversation by hanging up immediately.

As soon as he dropped the phone next to him on the couch, he regretted being this cold with Min-so. Their relationship was already odd enough, nothing of it resembled a normal coach-skater relationship to say the least. Especially if he thought about his rinkmates or competitors.

He let out a long sigh and fixed his gaze on his beloved husky who rested her head calmly on his lap.

“I think it's time for a walk now... we can visit Dad on the way back home.” He stroked the dog's fur lightly while mentally preparing himself for the worst and feeling like utter shit afterwards.

Even after half a year, he was still too weak for these face to face talks. And he hated being powerless when he should have been the backbone of the family.

“Come on, Jin. It’s nearly dark outside,” he called the dog softly, waking her from her nap.

Getting ready for the walk was almost robotic now. Putting his coat and shoes on, grabbing his keys and attaching the leash to the dog’s collar. It promised something relaxing a year ago, but now it was burdened with the visitation hours.

Fortunately for him, Jin also became familiar with this addition to their walks, so Seung-gil received some extra love from her, just to ease his mind a little bit. It didn’t make the evening ritual any easier. Seung-gil’s mind ran ahead of him, projecting different possible scenarios from worse to worst or hell will rise kind of bad.

He wasn’t necessarily pessimistic, he just slowly lost hope that everything would turn for the better. Six months. It should’ve been enough for that.

The cruel cold winter breeze made Seung-gil shiver as they stepped out from the apartment block. He quietly cursed under his nose that he hadn’t picked up something warmer. Jin of course didn’t mind the freezing temperature, her fur was basically designed for this barbarous weather.

Truth be told, Seung-gil didn’t mind the cold either. In fact, he was quite fond of the season. Winter was predictable, distant, and steady, exactly how he liked it. The frozen breaths created a safe bubble around him to blend in with other people and enjoy the incognito of the night. In many ways, he found the deadliest season the most beautiful. Even the low temperature was bearable to an extent and gave him a sense of stability.

It wasn’t a secret to anyone that Seung-gil was a routine-man. A well calculated and delivered day always left him satisfied. He planned his meals and calories always a week before and his apartment had to be neat and tidy. But most importantly, Seung-gil was never early or late, but right on time when it came to practice. He has never spent more time on the ice than it was absolutely necessary to achieve his goals. So, it wasn’t a surprise that he unknowingly took the same, well-known roads with Jin during their walks which only varied sometimes because of _the situation._

Soon enough, this became a regular extension to their route and Seung-gil was so familiar with it by now that his legs led him through the town without paying much attention. They knew every turn and shortcut by heart.

While they made their way through a crosswalk, Seung-gil adjusted his scarf and hid both his hands in the warm, furry pockets of the coat. As usual, he felt the cool air brushing against his skin as they reached the path beside the Hangang River. The water lazily flowed through the downtown, but the moonlight made it seem more alive. It looked like some rare silver creature that danced to an unknown ode with the wind and the crystallized reflection of the city moved along to the ancient rhythm.

Although Seung-gil wasn’t much of a fan of big towns, he admired every bit of nature that Seoul could offer. Since he had to live close to the rink, some compromises had to be made but he tried to make the most out of it. After years of voluntary isolation, he seemed to achieve his goal perfectly.

Seung-gil was alone, he felt the burden of loneliness. But he also chased this feeling, since he was the one in the first place who willingly decided to detach himself from others – his competitors, high school acquaintances and other relatives. The only person who could find a way to his heart used to be his father, but a lot has changed since _the situation_. Their relationship was undoubtedly one of them.

“At least I have you, Jin,” Seung-gil said matter of factly with a hint of fondness in his voice.

She wiggled her tail playfully, silently agreeing with her owner, but it wasn’t enough to make Seung-gil forget his problems.

His thoughts continuously screamed in his head, the paradoxical waltz between his urges and needs becoming almost unbearable. He longed for something new, yet he was stuck with the same routine every single day. In the back of his mind, Seung-gil secretly wished to be the best figure skater in the world, though he has never managed to really put himself out there and let his guards down.

No wonder he felt like his own shadow. He was a failure, a pathetic example of a skater. At least he had a sense of duty which helped him remember what it meant to be a son.

The daunting thoughts and his own judgement followed him through the walk. The constant whispers that only he could hear soured his mood eve more by the time he arrived at the apartment complex.

Their family home. His father’s place where he spent 18 years of his life.

Seung-gil had to take a deep breath before actually entering. Jin knew her owner’s rituals very well and calmly waited for the signal. The young skater cautiously typed in the access code from muscle memory which buzzed the lock softly so he could push in the old iron door.

His father lived on the 6th floor, but he always used the stairway instead of the elevator to get there. He needed that extra bit of time to prepare himself mentally and linger a little longer in the sea of self-loathing.

As always, he knocked on the door three times which was followed by Jin’s playful bark. He still refused to use his own keys, because he was deadly afraid of what might welcome him if he let his guard down. Better safe than sorry.

He heard quick and light footsteps that stopped at the door and the sedulous fingers unlocked the entrance.

“Seung-gil! Jin-jin!” a slim young woman opened the door with an enthusiastic grin on her face.

She wore an all-white attire, her thick black hair was in a neat ponytail and she was busy removing her rubber gloves in order to properly welcome the guests.

“Sa Rang,” Seung-gil nodded without a hint of emotion, but his eyes wandered behind her, checking for any possible sign of his father.

“He is in the bedroom, but I swear on the stars that he was more willing today to eat in the dining room.”

He had to hold back a scoff, because Seung-gil had a hard time believing this.

“His mood was better as well; I saw him gazing out the window when he wasn’t aware of my presence. I think he will be ready for a long nice walk in the next weeks,” she added with a bright smile like she delivered the best news possible.

Seung-gil wasn’t sure about the accuracy of this statement either.

“Did he say anything?”

Her expression immediately changed, and it made the young skater terribly irritated. Although he fought the urge to explicitly show his emotions, he hated the woman’s pity and sorrow that appeared on her face. Mun Sa Rang was just a caretaker, a paid employee not a relative or someone close to the family so her level of ‘empathy’ was unacceptable in his eyes.

“I see,” he grunted rather unfriendly, but it wasn’t enough to scare away Sa Rang.

“He reads a lot though,” she added as if it were sufficient to calm his nerves. “I might not be a psychologist and it’s not my place to speculate, but I think that reading will help him get there. It’s kind of a one-sided communication.”

“You are right, you are not a psychologist.”

Sa Rang gasped in surprise but she quickly regained her optimism.

“You could try nudging him. You are his son after all.”

“It doesn’t really matter…”

“Family always matters.” Sa Rang smiled at him supportively.

It made Seung-gil uneasy and he felt the need to change the topic immediately.

“Did my-… did she come?” He asked with a neutral tone.

“She didn’t, but she called. I spoke with her about his current condition. She promised to drop by tomorrow.”

Seung-gil silently nodded and took a mental note to avoid his father’s place at all cost the next day.

“Can I make you some tea or anything?”

“No,” he responded abruptly. “I’m okay.”

“Well… then I’ll give you some privacy. I’ll be in the kitchen if you need anything.”

“Alright.”

While Sa Rang left him in the entryway, he took another deep breath. The discomfort started to obscure his calculative mind which usually didn’t guarantee anything pleasant.

After he removed his coat and shoes, he helped Jin get rid of her leash. As soon as he took it off, the husky joyfully ran in the direction of the bedroom while Seung-gil followed her in a much slower pace. Sa Rang’s words didn’t calm him one bit and it seemed that his body refused to cooperate with him on this mission. His legs felt weak, some jelly-like mess, and his heart was thrumming so hard against his ribcage Seung-gil was certain that it could explode any given second.

It was laughable, really. He has never experienced stage-fright or a shred of nervousness before any competition until he learned the news about his father. It was an overwhelming turning point in his life that determined his fate in this skating season, and it didn’t become easier. His proudly self-proclaimed advantage of shutting out the audience seemed to exclude his father. So, when he reached for the doorknob and stepped into the room, it took all his energy to appear as relaxed as possible.

Like always, his father’s face was emotionless, and his gaze was fixated on the wall in front of him, eyeing the countless awards and honors he has been rewarded within the past years.

Seung-gil still found it challenging to fight off fifteen years of habit to simply blurt out ‘Hi Dad’ when their eyes finally met. He constantly had to remind himself to keep his mouth shut, because he was quite certain that any reminder of sound could make his father’s condition worse. Not that it was logically explainable or scientifically proven, but Seung-gil couldn’t take the risk.

_‘Why did you come?’_

The question was mute, but Seung-gil could pair it up with a distinct silvery voice. It wasn’t easy at first to recall his tone and unique details about his father’s intonation because his focus was fixated on decoding the sign language. But after long months of continuous practice he managed to keep up a basic conversation which allowed him to create a comforting illusion during the dialogue.

 _‘I did not have practice this evening_ _,’_ Seung-gil signed back, carefully thinking over if he marked the past tense correctly.

The older man didn’t answer, barely even looked at his direction, which made Seung-gil both frustrated and increasingly worried.

_‘I have to take care of you.’_

Seung-gil meant this in the best way possible, but he didn’t receive the reaction he had hoped for.

 _‘You do not have to. I am not a duty. I am not your daily task.’_ The older man responded with strained hand motions.

Although his face was completely still and detached, the hasty gestures made the young skater believe that his father was tremendously angry at him. The worst part was that the reason behind his emotions was valid. He did regard these check-ups as a responsibility and an everyday project, but Seung-gil tried to be as discreet as possible about it. And yet his old man could still see through him.

_‘I want to take care of you.’_

Even though the room was silent the whole time, it felt even heavier after Seung-gil’s second answer. Because he lied again.

Seung-gil knew he didn’t _have_ to take care of his father, because Sa Rang – as much as he despised her cheery nature – was a good nurse with a high level of attentiveness.

He also lacked the determination to be a guardian of his parent. He didn’t _want_ to be the one due to the fear of losing their bond and see it disassemble right in front of his eyes. It would have been too much to watch everything evaporate and transform into something strange and new. It frightened him to his core.

_‘Why did you come?’_

The same question from his father meant that the older man became impatient with him. Seung-gil felt the frustration building up in the air poisoning both of their moods.

Aside from being a son and what meaning it held for him, he couldn’t point out the reason why he adjusted to this routine. But if he mentioned his indecisive state of mind, his father would definitely use it as an opportunity to throw accusations at him. Eventually he decided to stay true to himself this time, only revealing the basic truth.

_‘Because I could.’_

Seung-gil offered a genuine glimpse of his mindset, but he couldn’t shake off the feeling that it could be too much for his father to bear. Ever since that fateful night back in June he’s been having a hard time not to tiptoe around his old man.

His father silently snorted but his face was still emotionless.

_‘I know you could. But why?’_

_‘You are my father.’_

Seung-gil’s fingers moved without thinking about his response twice.

They were dancing around the same question over and over again, yet he didn’t have the guts to break this vicious circle. Not when his father was still not well enough to leave the house.

_‘How is practice?’_

Seung-gil bitterly noted that they were still not ready to break down the walls of small talk. However, a part of him was glad to stick to the usual theme.

_‘It is okay. I want to try new jumps.’_

The older man quirked a questioning eyebrow. For some reason he seemed skeptical and Seung-gil didn’t like that one bit.

_‘What does your coach think about that?’_

_‘Not much.’_

Seung-gil immediately realized that it was a wrong choice of words as his father eyebrows knitted together.

_‘Is she still harsh?’_

_‘No. Everything is okay.’_

Seung-gil was grateful he didn’t have to open his mouth to persuade his father, because he wasn’t sure if his voice would have trembled or not. Quaintly, this pushed him to afforce his statement.

_‘Everything is okay.’_

Whether his father pretended to believe him or actually bought his words, they signed back and forth like both their lives were indeed fine.

After an hour of mostly coherent signing, Sa Rang shyly interrupted them to serve some tea and biscuits. It was the cue for Seung-gil to leave and softly wake up Jin, who slept through the conversation at the end of his father’s bed.

 _‘Do you want to stay for dinner?’_ His old man asked after taking a sip from the hot drink.

This was unexpected. Although their soundless dialogue repeated the common pattern, he hasn’t been asked to stay for dinner until now.

Seung-gil glanced at his dog with a slight trace of concern, because she had her frequent feeding time as well. But before he could say anything, the young lady once again chimed in with excited gestures.

_‘I can fetch something for Jin-jin as well.’_

Seung-gil toyed with the idea for a few seconds, but he didn’t know if he could trust in Sa Rang’s skills when it came to creating dog food from scratch.

It seemed like the caretaker understood his hesitation as she immediately put her hands up defensively.

_‘My family had three dogs and we always gave them home-made goods.’_

He stayed still for another minute, calculating the potential risks but their current situation didn’t present a better option, so he nodded.

_‘Fantastic! Does Jin-jin prefer beef or chicken?’_

The young woman signed effortlessly and her irritatingly bright smile stayed on during the whole process.

_‘She likes both.’_

Seung-gil signed back with a nonchalant shrug.

_‘I will go with beef then. A cute dog like Jin-jin deserves the best.’_

Sa Rang flashed another joyful smile then she disappeared in the kitchen. It was hard for Seung-gil to understand this amount of optimism and happiness. He couldn’t even remember the last time he was visibly content.

However, his father’s expression was telling enough to notice the relief after Seung-gil indirectly agreed to stay for dinner. They didn’t sign much until the meal, but Seung-gil complimented the tea, because it felt like a warm blanket during these bone-chilling days.

After the last sip of tea, Sa Rang came in the room again, but this time she brought two big trays with her that contained all the food. Seung-gil didn’t want to lie, it had a great smell, certainly better than his creations which were basically half-hearted attempts to seem like a fully independent adult.

_‘Enjoy your meal! I will eat with Jin-jin outside. I am concerned about the rug.”_

Well, this was understandable. As obedient as his dog was, he recognized the potential pain and work to get out accidental stains from the carpet. Thus, Seung-gil let her follow Sa Rang to the dining room.

After everything was settled, Seung-gil and his father started to eat as well. He sourly registered that this was the first time he found his father’s illness rather convenient. During the whole dinner, there were no uneasy questions or small talk, just some well done rice, banchan egg rolls, fried fish and his thoughts.

He had to admit, Sa Rang was a good cook. Aside from being a full-time nurse, she really went out of her way to make his old man comfortable. She cleaned the house, she cooked, did the laundry, and even checked the mailbox every other night. The young woman basically lived in the guest room and this was the part Seung-gil didn’t know how to feel about. Though, he appreciated that someone always had their eyes on his father.

Another thing that made Seung-gil uneasy was the eerie déja vu that the situation evoked. This whole scenario reminded him of the days when his parents were in the process of separating a couple of years ago. Seung-gil spent the weekends with his dad who was trying his best to master the basic household chores, including cooking. But during the first months, they usually just ate instant ramen in the dining room and sat in silent agreement that things should be better. Despite his father’s hardest efforts, he was perfectly aware of the challenges that the divorce had caused.

Under the waves of nostalgia, he almost forgot where he was and what he was doing. He really missed the simpler times, but he was too stubborn to confess this out loud.

Oddly, his father must have had the same thoughts, because after they finished their dinner, his old man casually brought up the topic.

_‘I still have the videos of your junior years.’_

Seung-gil’s heart sank at the statement and his stomach made an uncomfortable turn.

_‘I think your mother has more of them.’_

He inhaled sharply and he put down his chopsticks a bit too aggressively as it made a loud noise. Not that his father could hear it.

 _‘I am not a junior anymore. I skate now.’_ He replied with a stern expression.

_‘I know. But I can not hear your programs anymore.’_

It was a knife in the chest, and absolute punch in the stomach that almost made Seung-gil gasp for air.

For an outsider it wouldn’t be as agonizing, because on a surface level the sentence showcased his father’s medical condition. He was deaf. But Seung-gil knew him better, and he realized the underlying implication it carried; his body was not delivering the music and his skating was not artistic enough for his father’s taste.

He swallowed thickly and held his old man’s gaze firmly. One sentence shouldn’t break him like this and yet it did. Again.

_‘I should go home now. It is pitch black outside. Thank you for the dinner.’_

From the corner of his eyes, he saw his old man’s face twitching in reaction, but he didn’t add more.

They both intentionally or unintentionally hurt each other with their straightforward statements, and this was the last straw for Seung-gil tonight. He will adjust and wear his armor tomorrow again, but he needed a good rest before that.

With the help of Sa Rang, he took out the trays into the kitchen so he could get away from the bedroom swiftly.

“I’ve heard you don’t like vegetables,” the nurse broke the silence with a discreet smile. “I hope I managed to fit the dinner to your taste as well.”

Frankly, he didn’t even notice the lack of vegetables, he was too used to his own meals.

“It was okay.” He mumbled stolidly.

“I hope you will join us for dinner more often. Your father seemed very happy to have you here.”

 _Join us?_ What was that supposed to mean? It wasn’t like the caretaker become a family member, but the offer certainly brought a presumption like she did.

“I’ll see.” Seung-gil shrugged disinterestedly, making these his last words before leaving.

~ ~ ~

Stepping outside from the apartment complex was liberating. He sighed in relief as the chilling air filled his lungs. For a minute, he dared to believe the walk back home would be easier.

Needless to say, it was a false assumption. Getting away from his family home didn’t equal finding an escape from his thoughts. Now that he was alone, his mind kept replaying every crucial moment that had happened.

Every little mistake felt like a fatal step under his own brain’s magnifying glass. Every unsaid word bit into his heart causing Seung-gil to grit his teeth to repress his angry tears.

He didn’t want to settle with the current circumstances. He honestly wanted things to be better, but all his desperate endeavors resulted in a major setback. It was tiring and depressing. Like they were wandering in an endless labyrinth that would slowly kill both of them.

Actually, the labyrinth wasn’t the best metaphor for the past months. A swampland would be more fitting since they were stuck and trying to reach for the other one or even leaving their stance could speed up their drowning.

Seung-gil felt like he was living in a nightmare, but he felt a selfish for thinking that, because he wasn’t the one who lost everything that night. His father did. Lee Dal lost the love of his life that evening and he will never get it back.

A nationally praised composer, an internationally recognized musician who has been awarded with dozens of notable awards. This man became deaf and was told that he would never hear again a single note. All his future ideas now were imprisoned behind his disability.

It was disgusting how the internet went wild after they had learned about his father’s condition. Instead of giving the family some peace, _Lee Dal_ became a household name – yet again – and his records started to skyrocket. At least, his mother managed to remove his father’s name from every Korean news site before the story could have instigated an international flare. Obviously, it had an impact on Seung-gil’s life as well, because the curios and gossip-hungry eyes found him at the skating events putting more and more pressure on him.

The whole country expected him to skate for his father, to deliver something emotional and being impacted by all his fans. Regardless of the audience’s standards, Seung-gil never gave in, he kept up his walls and remained untouchable. This was his way to cope with the events. Not that he has been famous for his interpretation skills or diverse facial expressions, but this pushed him even further from his fans and the public in general.

Was it the best possible option? Probably not, however, Seung-gil had an excellent way of rationalizing his decisions based on a handful of facts. Yet it wasn’t enough to mute the bothersome noises in the back of his mind that kept warning him for making the same mistakes as his father. He did fear that his stubbornness will put him in danger in the future, though his sense of justice was stronger than that.

Seung-gil took another deep breath and looked up to the sky. It wasn’t pitch black as he described to his father. The thick layer of clouds was painted with a weird mixture of ashy grey and pale orange.

 _Snow clouds,_ he registered it quickly and felt a bit relieved that they arrived just in time before the storm started. It will be tomorrow’s problem, when he must deal with recovering his car from a massive blanket of snow. But it wasn’t the worst part about snowing.

The most troublesome part was the high probability of small talk early in the morning, because one of his neighbors will most likely want to engage in a conversation about how both their cars are covered with all this white shit.

 _No shit, Sherlock. It’s fucking snow. It cannot target specific cars. No one gets a free pass because they own a KIA or something._ Seung-gil secretly craved to blurt out these things but enraging the whole neighborhood didn’t sound like the best policy. So, he could only curse mentally and later on the way to the rink.

When they finally made it to the entrance, Seung-gil impatiently turned the key twice in the lock.

Entering the familiar environment calmed his nerves a little, it helped shift his focus from the issues with his neighbors and his father. Or rather, blocking his thoughts completely, he sank into the comforting waves of mental numbness.

It should have scared him how things became robotic when he began his nightly routine. Taking a shower, brushing his teeth, washing his face. His mind was fully blank, not being able to comprehend his movements. Even worse, his vision was also troubled, like he saw the world through watery lenses.

He didn’t panic, but his patience was wearing thin as he lost control over his body.

As an attempt to regain his consciousness, Seung-gil leaned on the sink and took several deep breaths. He was feeling utterly exhausted like he just ran a marathon or something, and the sound of his own heartbeat was echoing in his ears louder by the second.

 _What the fuck is wrong with me?_ Seung-gil clenched his jaw and tightened his fingers around the basin.

He felt the anger rushing through his veins forcing his heart to beat even more rapidly. It started to become unbearable, but before he could collapse on the cold bathroom floor, he heard a soft bark from the other side of the door.

 _Jin._ It was basically a miracle how his dog always sensed his owner’s struggles.

“Just a minute, Jin,” he exhaled wearily. “I just need my towel…”

He quickly dried his face, and combed his hair with his fingers.

When Seung-gil opened the door, Jin was patiently sitting behind it and she softly barked again as he stepped out of the bathroom.

“Come on, you deserve a good night snack.” He stroked her fur lightly, but it lacked the usual affection.

Fortunately, the husky didn’t seem to notice the difference and she playfully followed Seung-gil to the kitchen where he kept Jin’s treats.

“You were a really good girl today,” Seung-gil forced himself to smile a little. “You and your sweet tooth absolutely deserve a peanut butter cracker.”

This time, his smile was genuine, and it was rewarded with a pleased bark as he gave her the snack.

If nothing else, Seung-gil was a responsible dog owner, so before going to sleep, he also checked Jin’s water bowl and all the stack of emergency medications if his dog somehow would develop a stomachache over the night.

After making sure the entrance was locked and every window was tight shut, Seung-gil made his way to his room to get himself comfortable in the bed. Despite being awfully fatigued after the bathroom ‘episode’, his mind was not ready to shut down just yet, so there was no chance for him to fall asleep at the usual time. It was past 10 pm and he was still wide awake, not showing any sign of tiredness.

He desperately needed some distraction, so he did the unthinkable, grabbed his phone from the nightstand and opened Instagram. He hasn’t checked the app for about two months now. Not that anybody would miss him since he wasn’t that active on it in the first place. Seung-gil only posted five photos in total in a span of one and a half years.

This time, he just lazily swiped through his feed, checking out what his competitors were up to. Although Seung-gil wasn’t particularly curious about their lives, he followed most of them because it was obligatory.

He wasn’t surprised that the first picture was from Phichit. That social-media obsessed guy wouldn’t miss a day without posting something. If it were any other day, he would simply move to the next photo, but the caption caught his attention.

 _Sweet treats and soon in Japan! ;)_ _♥_ _#chefChuchu #congratsYuuri #congratsYurio_

Seung-gil frowned at the tags then the picture again. Phichit was in the kitchen – a quite messy one for the record – with his hamsters and presumably his sister baking something with too much frosting and bright colours for his taste.

 _So this whole get-together is that serious, ha?_ Seung-gil thought to himself and swiped to the next photo.

It showed the Italian twins in the kitchen, also baking, but somehow Michele made the innocent picture so damn disturbing purely with his existence.

_Twinning is winning & three days until Japan! #chefCrispinos #congratsYuuri #congratsYurio_

“What the fuck are these tags?” He grumbled under his nose.

He scrolled further down, but all he could see was the same theme. From Leo, from Chris – in an unnecessarily semi-naked attire –, then Guang-Hong and even that obnoxious idiot JJ posted about it. Though he went a bit further, claiming that he is in fact the king in the kitchen.

Finally, he found the source of this stupid trend as he stumbled upon Viktor’s account. He posted a picture with Yuuri recording the process of “getting ready” for this whole event in Hasetsu, which was quite an overstatement in Seung-gil’s opinion. If Phichit’s kitchen was a mess, this one had to be destroyed by hurricane.

Nothing in the picture reminded Seung-gil of a normal baking process. Nikiforov was chasing Yuuri assumingly trying to taste the raw dough, while Katsuki gave in everything to hold him back – without much luck – sweeping off some ingredients on the floor in the process.

_Preparing for the celebration with tasty pastry! #chefNikiforov #Yuurimadethismess #congratsYurio #congratsYuuri <3_

_Ugh… I’ll have to listen to Min-so’s complaints for months._ Seung-gil made a face and he refreshed his timeline, but there were no more new pictures.

He decided he had seen enough, and he was ready to close the app for the next few months, but before he could do that, he realized something else. He had two unread private messages. Seung-gil struggled to remember whether these were new or he had ignored them before. It wouldn’t be much of a surprise if he did.

However, this time his curiosity won and Seung-gil clicked on the little arrow in the corner. As it turned out, the two messages from Sara and Phichit were indeed new. For a moment he considered not even reading them, but what was the worst that could happen? Blaming him for not replying? It wouldn’t be a ground-breaking phenomenon.

Seung-gil opened the Thai skater’s message first.

> _Hi Seung-gil, I just wanted to ask if you’ve seen the trend that Viktor and Yuuri created? :) I was thinking about making a collage for them of all the pictures that we posted as a collective gift from all of us. You know… printing it out on a big canvas that would hardly fit in their living room. I think they would love it so can you please maybe take a picture as well? I don’t want to leave you out. You don’t have to put it on social media just DM me the picture. ;) Please please pleeeeaaaase make one! Thank you!!_

Seung-gil blinked once, then twice, slowly, like it would help him digest the information dump he was exposed to. Everything in this text was too much and several questions arose along the way.

First, why would Phichit contact him? They’ve never really interacted at all, probably a semi-polite ‘Hello’ was the most they’ve shared, but this text was way too friendly for his taste, especially for two people who were barely acquaintances. Second, did he really think that he would gladly take picture and send it to him? He would rather die than take a selfie. And most importantly, why on Earth would Phichit print it out on a canvas that is too big? It’s stupid and inconsiderate.

He wanted to text back a short ‘I’m not coming so why bother?’ brush-off reply, though it would expose him and if he recalled accurately, Phichit was not the type of person who could keep his mouth shut. At least not for too long and he couldn’t risk the messages being leaked to the press. Not when the relationship with his coach depended on the last snippets of mutual respect.

So, Seung-gil closed the text without response and took a deep breath as he opened the other one from Sara.

> _hey Seung-gil_  
>  _will you come to_ _Hasetsu as well?  
>  _ _Mickey and I couldn’t catch a direct flight so we will have to change planes in Seoul  
>  _ _maybe you could join us? :)_

_Over my dead body_ _,_ Seung-gil snorted to himself. The event alone sounded painful but adding the creepy twins to the mix would make it even worse. He didn’t have masochist tendencies to willingly put up with that clingy girl and her obsessive brother, but he couldn’t give into the temptation to write back something mildly insulting either, because he had to maintain a certain distance.

Even though the amount fucks he gave were astronomically low, the media outlets would butcher him for not attending. He would probably suffer twice as much as he had initially calculated, and Seung-gil wouldn’t hear the end of his coach’s nagging.

With a short sigh, he put the phone back on the nightstand and tried to force himself to sleep. Of course, it wasn’t easy, his mind kept revising the messages, picking up on insignificant elements that could bear another meaning. It was a talent of his that irritated him to no end.

He rolled over to his right side, stubbornly keeping his eyes shut and trying to empty his head. It wasn’t simple. Sleeping in general has been a struggle lately, so much so, he even considered getting a prescription for some pills. Without any medication his own mind found the worst way to reflect on his decisions.

Was it cowardly to not reply to anything? Did he make the right choices?

Has he been a good son?

Was he on the right path?... _Was he on any path_ _?_

When did he become so unsure?

If Seung-gil learned anything from his father's illness it would be that he was terribly scared to die, but he was even more afraid to live.


End file.
